Eaten by Tapirs

A Fable...

Upon my return from Nicaragua (in advance of the ultimately disappointing Hurricane Beta), my university not-so-politely demanded my passport for processing. Yet somewhere between my bedroom and the school, said passport evaporated yesterday. In a state of increasing frustration, I spent most of last night disassembling my room and scouring the house for that distressingly consequential bundle of pages... to no avail. Grasping at straws, I had resigned myself to looking for it on the school bus this morning. Yet on the 20-minute trek (over some of the worst road I've ever seen) to the bus stop, a wonderful Costa Rican woman, a youngish grandmother if I had to guess, asked our passing band "Which one is Paul?" She had found my passport up the street, where I had presumably dropped it while running down a hill after my daily visit with my adopted cow (more on that later). Thanking her profusely, and making a mental note of her home so to thank her with a small gift later, I took stock of the situation.

First, through no skill of my own, my passport was returned to me.

Second, while I scavenged my room for the missing trinket, I found a hundred bucks I'd thought lost forever.

The twin morals of the story: Carelessness pays, and the universe will always insulate us from the consequences of our mistakes.

Excellent. This knowledge will serve me well in future.

posted by Paul @ 12:12 PM